Are We An Us? by Contributing Guest Writer Donna Mae Greaves


 

Are We An Us?

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He reached across the car and opened the door for me, taking my bags as I entered and storing them on the back seat.

image“Hey Babe – how was your day?” It always made me weak in the knees when he called me ‘babe’. Fuck my knees … it did things to my entire body.

“Hey – it was a good one,” I replied, smiling at him. He did that thing he always does when I get into the car. He always gives me a “once over” with his eyes … quickly – probably in the hopes that I don’t see, but he does it every day … twice a day.

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into my eyes as if he’s searching for something. I smile again, and my eyes, of their own naughty volition, drifted downward to his mouth and those sensuous lips of his.

He could be smiling, laughing, or bitching at someone on the phone or the idiotic driver ahead of him, I’m always drawn to those lips.

“I’m fine worry-wart … just a little tired is all,” I reply. He reaches over and touches my cheek, as if feeling for a fever.

“Hmmm … okay,” he concedes, unwillingly of course.

“If I’m hot, it’s your fault,” I tease, praying that he gets that I’m actually serious. He shoots me a sidelong glance as he skillfully navigates the afternoon traffic.

“A … one of these days,” he threatens. He’s the only person allowed to call me ‘A’ … it’s short for Angele for him – no one else. And I call him D for Dylan. “One day D … maybe you’ll stop threatening,” I sass back.

We’ve been friends for years, and even in the days when I didn’t want to admit that it was even remotely possible, he has held my heart in his hands. We play and tease a lot – today is no different. We are ourselves with each other, without the finery and war paint of daily life. I make him laugh out loud with the jokes that I tell him … his laughter echoes in my soul and I laugh because of the echoes. And in my heart I always say “I love you … so very, very much” …

I wonder if there’s a way that I could find to make her see just how beautiful she is … or make her understand how that thick body of hers sways in just the right way to hold a man’s attention – particularly mine. I watch as her face breaks into a smile as she walks towards the car. I’m just thankful that I don’t have to get out of the car … I may embarrass myself and show just how ‘happy’ I am to see her too.

I’ve known Angele for a while now. We’ve probably seen sides of each other that others are yet to discover. That’s a good thing, but sometimes I wonder that we may know each other too well, you know, as in too well for me to feel what I do at times and want to do what’s on my mind most times.

There’s something not quite right today … her smile doesn’t feel right. I wonder what’s wrong with her. “Are you sure” I ask, when she answers my greeting. I reach over and touch her cheek. It’s silly I know but I’m always looking for reasons to touch her. My fingers start shaking as my knuckles graze her skin, and I watch as a myriad of colors shift beneath her cheek’s surface – from pale to peach to plum then dark red … it’s the cutest thing. Does she know that I do this on purpose? I mean … I’m a grown-ass man – I’ve been around the block a few times, but there’s something about this woman with her playful sophistication that undermines my will. How the hell am I supposed to answer a comment like if she’s hot it’s my fault?! Maybe you should answer her by reaching over again and doing what you know you want to, my mind rages, but I shut it down before the picture show starts. I should really just come out and tell her that she should see what she’s doing to the nether regions of my body, but no – not yet. She’s not ready yet … at least I don’t think so. How in the hell did she manage to get all up under my skin like that anyway?

Her skin feels like warm silk beneath my fingers … silk that electrocutes – the sparks are amazing when we touch, but of course, we both ignore them. I can say ‘we’ because I know she feels it too. There’ve been times when I’ve heard the hushed intake of breath when we’ve bumped knees, or I’ve touched her arm or …

“You wanna join us back here on earth Space Cadet?” I ask, watching the emotions play over his face.

“Oh I’m on earth,” he replies, turning to look me full in the face. We’re at a standstill in the traffic, so he’s decided to give me his undivided attention. It’s a little uncomfortable having him look at me like that. It feels like I’ve got no where to hide. There’s something different about the way he’s looking at me now … it’s a little more intense than usual … what’s up with that?

“Okay … what did I do?” I ask, trying to break the suddenly thick tension in the car. He’s not answering. ‘Say something funny’, my mind screams at me.

“You really wanna know what you’ve done?” He reaches over and takes my hand, placing it over his heart. “That’s what you’ve done.” Dylan’s heart is pounding – very much like my own. Behind us someone sounds their horn, and we become aware that the traffic has begun to flow.

‘Okay, that’s it … enough of this shit.’ I need to deal with this. Nothing that I’m doing is making any sense at this point, inclusive of swerving off of our daily route to her house. I need …I need to… I don’t know what the fuck I need, but I need something!

“Where are you going D?” she asks, looking at me with those huge baby brown eyes.

“I just need to avoid the traffic for a little bit. Relax.” Relax? I’m telling her to relax and I can’t even breathe right now. She’s reclined the back of the seat and closed her eyes. She’s one of the few people I know who trusts me implicitly. My eyes travel down her body, from her face to the rise and fall of her full breasts as she breathes, to the slight chubbiness of her tummy, to her thighs, exposed by the shifting of her skirt as she crosses her legs. I swallow the lust that rises in my throat. I can feel my body reacting to everything about her fullness. She looks like ripened fruit – one that’s waiting to be plucked. Am I in Lust? Yeah lust, but something else too. It’s not just physical. I care about her on an emotional level too. Oh my God, I care! I look out the window and try to figure out when it was that I lost my lone-wolf status. I don’t ‘care’ about anyone and I don’t need anyone …or so I thought.

A blur in my vision catches my attention and I see a Camry barreling towards me. I veer away from his path and my hand automatically reaches across to protect her. My palm grazes her breast, and again with the electricity.

Shit! She looks up at me, questions and realizations on her face.

“How many times do I have to tell you about that blasted seatbelt??!” I’m raging at her and I don’t know why. I can see the hurt in her eyes and I want to hit myself for causing it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Oh, you ass! I glance at her again, and she’s now facing the door. God, I hope she’s not crying. I know I don’t want anything to happen to her but that’s still no reason to yell as I have. This is just great. Now how am I going to tell her… tell her… tell her what?

This is ridiculous! I feel like a frickin’ teenaged boy. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat and my stomach won’t stop doing flip flops. What the hell …

If I keep my head at this angle, he can’t see the tears that fall. I dunno know why I’m reacting like such a baby; he’s talked to me about the seatbelt often enough, it’s just that I feel so safe in his care that I forget that not everybody takes the care that he does. I can feel his eyes on me … he’s wondering if I’m crying. ‘Well you can go on wondering you big buffoon. In my ‘final’ act of defiance, I cross my arms over my chest as we approach a red light. I’ve made my point – I hear him sigh. ‘Good! Live with that!’

“Angel…” Oh but this is sneaky … he knows what happens when he calls me Angel – or does he? I know what happens … my insides turn to water and it becomes difficult and keep my resolve. His using my name in its purest form is even more intimate that his calling me ‘A’.

I sigh and I turn to face him. Why the hell did I look into his eyes? They look like black pools of molten lava. Great … now I’m turning into a puddle. He’s such a stinker.

“Dylan…” I reply, trying to hold on to my earlier annoyance, but it has long dissipated.

“I’m sorry Babe … really I am. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that…” he turns his attention to the green light and he leaves the sentence hanging.

“It’s just what Dylan? What is it?” I’m fired up now … burning with anger. Maybe it’s not anger and it’s something else – something that I don’t want to name … not just yet.

“It’s just that I got scared,” he sullenly replies. I smile, in spite of myself. So much for resolve, I admit to myself.

“Okay. Just don’t do it again. Where are we heading?” I had just sat up and I realized that this was so not the road home. I’m not scared; I just want to know where I’m heading.

“Small detour,” he begins, “I need to talk to a friend of mine for a couple minutes. It won’t be a long stop.” He reaches beside me and picks up his phone to check the time. I can feel the heat radiating from his body to mine. How could it possibly be this hot in an air conditioned car??? I sigh and suddenly become aware of the shallowness of my breathing.

‘Yeah right … you got scared … whateva. My mind is screaming at me … jeering at me for not being a man and admitting what happened back there, and what’s happening now. There is so much sexual tension in this car. Why did I ever turn down this road? It’s funny because right now I’m speaking figuratively and literally. Thankfully the car park is just ahead. I look around at the beach and it’s just what I was hoping for – deserted. I look over at Angele and she sits up and looks out the window, puzzled.

“Where are you meeting your friend?” she asks.image

“Right here,” I reply, as I release my seatbelt and lean over to her side. She looks at me … puzzled at first, then realization dawns in her eyes, but it’s too late as I claim her lips in a kiss.

I watch in amused fascination as her eyes open to their widest and then close. I close mine too. I release her seatbelt and pull her closer to me. Her hands move slowly up the front of my Polo shirt … her fingers brand me as they make their progress to my neck. I tease at her lips with my teeth and she sighs, granting me access within. God, I feel like I’ve been drugged. Common sense says stop and talk to her but carnal energy says ‘go, go, go!’

My hands delve into her hair, caressing and massaging the back of her neck. She sighs again and leans further into me. In my mind I hear the tires screeching, indicating that I need to stop for a bit, but dear sweet Lord, this kiss just keeps shifting up in levels! When the hell did her hands get under my shirt? I’m now aware that the back of my knuckles are grazing over her exposed cleavage … and everything feels so, so good.

“Angel,” I hoarsely whisper.

“Mmmmm hmmm,” she responds, never breaking our lip lock.

“Come on baby … wait a minute.” She sighs again, making a sound, something like an unsatisfied kitten, and I feel that sound rather than hear it in the nether regions of my body.

“What?” she asks, looking up at me with heavy lidded eyes.

“Are you okay?” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a stupid question.

“I’m wonderful,” she replies, “Or maybe I’m not. Why does this sound like you’re about to apologize and tell me how wrong this is…”

I cannot believe that he’s about to apologize. I can feel it in every pore of my body and HIS that this is what we both want and need. His heart is hammering just like mine is, so much so that he’s not even aware that my hands are still on his body!

“Dylan, if you tell me that you didn’t -” He touches my face and gently rests his finger on my lips.

“I’m not sorry Angel. Believe me, I’m not. I want you to know that I can’t act like there’s nothing here anymore. This just doesn’t make any sense. Can we get outta the car?” He turns and exits before I can respond, walking and leaning on the front of the car. I sit there for a couple seconds more, observing his body language. If he’s not sorry, why does he still look like a tortured man? I walk over and lean next to him, taking his hand in mine.

“Dylan … do you know how long I’ve wanted to just reach over and grab you? I know it sounds funny but don’t laugh.” I mutter, responding to the half smile on his face. “I’ve been burning my own torch for months now, and trying to convince myself that it’s been some sort of proximity sickness.”

His eyes respond to my every word … I can see the beat of his heart through his shirt and it’s all I can do to stop myself from resting my head there.

“Are you serious?” he asks. I’ve never seen him so unsure of himself.

“Yes I am,” I reply. “So why do you look so tortured Babe?” I ask him. I want to know, but my stomach is doing flip-flops as I await his answer.

“Angel … I don’t know what’s happening between us … I just know that something IS. And you have to admit that I don’t have the best track record with relationships. I mean, there is no guarantee as to what will happen if we follow this … this thing to where it seems to want to go. And I just don’t want to hurt you…”

This time it’s me resting my finger on his lips. I lean over and kiss him where my finger was. I’m suddenly bolstered by the power that I apparently wield where he is concerned.

“Dylan, nobody knows where anything is heading when they start something with someone, and that’s just cuz people are just that … people. I don’t know where I’m heading most days … far less for the two of us. And we are an ‘us’ aren’t we?” He looks at me and smiles.

“Yeah … yeah we are an ‘us’. I love you, yuh know…” he whispers, almost shyly. My eyes fill but I’m not going to cry.

“Yeah … I know you do … I love you too.”

I can’t believe I just blurted out that I love her. What’s even more amazing is that I can’t believe that she loves me. I’m trying to think of something else to say but my eyes keep looking at her mouth. I lower my head towards hers, and she meets me halfway, welcoming me in without hesitation. There’s a brand new sweetness to this kiss … like it’s been flavored by our declarations. I stand up and pull her body to me, reveling in the feel of her curviness against my toughened mass. She melts into me with a sigh. Those sighs do things to me … arouse me in a way that words never could. She wraps her arms around my torso squeezing me with all her might.

“Dammit Angel,” I whisper into our kiss, “You’re driving me crazy. Stop moving or we’re gonna have some problems.”

She giggles that husky, throaty giggle that lands in my loins rather than my ears, and continues squirming against me. This is torture … sweet torture … but torture none the less.

“A,” I plead.

“D,” she responds.

“Let’s go home.” I know I’ve said the words, but I’m thinking that I must be nuts.

“What?” he asks, searching my face for signs of laughter.

“I said let’s go home Dylan.” My use of his name lets him know that I’m serious.

“I’m not … I don’t … are you serious?”

“As a heart attack … you know I don’t say things that I don’t mean. Is it that you don’t want to?” I ask, holding my breath yet again.

“I want to … believe me I want to … I just don’t want to rush you into anything. And I’m not prepared.” Releasing all that’s been pent up inside of me, I laugh and hug him.

“That’s why God invented pharmacies and supermarkets,” I reach up and kiss the tip of his nose, “and if you ask me one more time if I’m sure, I’ma hit you.” He laughs, just as relieved as I am, and we walk back to the car.

We drive to the mall in silence. Why are we suddenly shy with each other?

“Hey,” I glance over at her.

“Yeah?” she responds, smiling shyly at me. I lean in and kiss the corner of her lips, taking her hand in mine. She laughs and amazingly we both relax.

“Okay,” she says, as I park the car, “You need a pharmacy and I need the supermarket. Meet you in twenty minutes?” she asks. She looks into my face, reading me like a book. “And please tell me that you’re not going to use that time to have second thoughts again.” Even though she’s talking to me I can’t help but wonder if those words are for her as well. I know Angele … and I know about her ‘fat girl issues’ as she calls them. I watch her step hesitantly to me and I pull her into my arms, kissing her with all the resolve I have, and hoping that it somehow transfers into her as well.

“I have no second thoughts; I’m just wondering if I can sit still for twenty minutes while you’re in the supermarket. What do you need in there anyway?” I ask. It’s already a chore trying to hold myself in check … every nerve ending is on point, especially now when I’m holding her.

“Hey you do what you gotta do and I’ll handle my shit,” she sasses, pulling out of my arms. She winks at me and saunters to the supermarket. It’s funny but it’s suddenly cool without her in my arms. Wow … all of this in less than an hour…

He’s watching me walk away and I feel like Loretta Devine in Waiting to Exhale, wondering if Gregory Hines is looking at her ass. I don’t have to wonder though … I can feel my man’s eyes on my hips and curves. ‘Whoa!!! My man???’ Well ain’t we possessive! I feel the blush and the smile spread across my face, and become aware of people looking at me as I pick up a basket… the funny thing is that I just look at them and smile all the harder.

“You wear it well Sistah,” says a man on one of the lanes.

“Excuse me?” I ask. I don’t know this person but he looks at me with a look of knowledge.

“I said you wear it well … love that is.” With that, he smiles and walks away. His words leave me in such a tizzy that I almost forget what I’m looking for.

It has occurred to me that there is no ‘real’ food at home. My mother is abroad so I’ve just been ‘junking’ it basically for the past two weeks. I head to the bakery and find a rotisserie chicken and some freshly baked dinner rolls. On my way to the counter, I pick up a few scented candles. I’ve got some at home, but you can never have too many. As I approach the check out, I see him pacing outside the door. He’s on the phone. ‘Please, don’t let anybody need him tonight … I need him. I send up the silent prayer and just as I get to ‘Amen’, he catches my eye and smiles that slow, smoking, sexy smile that I know is all mine.

He takes the bags from me as I walk to him and holds my hand.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at me.

“Hi,” I whisper. We can’t seem to talk to each other, but we can’t help talking to each other. The drive home is filled with long pauses and stolen looks. I wonder if he is anxious and nervous and excited as I am. His left hand in my right feels so warm, so right. There’s an idiotic smile on my face that I’ve been trying to get rid of, but it won’t fade…

The anticipation is killing me, and yet I’m wondering if I’m rushing her into this, but every time she smiles at me with those bedroom eyes, I’m sold. Suddenly the drive to her house feels longer than usual. There’s a little more traffic than usual, but it’s also a Friday and the end of the month, so payday. The lyrics for ‘Last Night’ by As Yet start playing in my head and I chuckle … out loud. She looks over at me with a question in her eyes. I look at her and wink and she seems to understand what my male brain is doing. I chuckle harder as I watch the blush rise in her cheeks. She reaches over and hits me on the back of my head.

“Hey … stop that! You break it you buy it lady,” I say to her, pretending to scowl.

“Oh I intend to,” she responds, “Break it, I mean.” Her words are sassy, but I can see the shyness in her eyes.

We’re here. We’ve arrived at her house. Everything is the same, but different. There’s no need for our normal ‘concluding’ conversation … I’m not leaving. God, I’m not leaving. My stomach starts acting the fool again as I exit the car. She gets out and reaches into the back seat for the bags.

“Leave it,” I intone. Our eyes meet and lock. She swallows and smiles.

“Okay,” she quietly replies.

“A … are you all right?” I ask, yet again.

“Dylan … I’m good … I’m wonderful. I’m just … yuh know … this is different for us … but yes. I’m okay.” She walks up the rest of the driveway to the kitchen door and opens it. I follow behind with the bags and place them on the table.

“Do you need me?” I ask, suddenly nervous. She looks up from her task, a wicked half-smile on her face.

“Yeah … yeah I need you, but not here.” Lord, but I’m blushing … but that seems to relax her some more.

“Can you go through to the den and turn the TV on?” she asks.

“Yeah I can do that…”

I asked him to turn on the television just so I can have a moment to myself. This man has occupied my heart and my head for so long that the fact that we are about to make love is making everything on and in me shake. It’s as hot as Hades outside but I’m shaking like I’m freezing. Would you get a grip, I shout at myself while I put the chicken into the microwave. I take a deep breath and move to the liquor cabinet. There’s a bottle of white wine in there with his name on it. A quick check through the freezer reveals ice cream cake … that’s if we make it to dessert.

“Everything okay in there?” I shout to him.

“Yeah … just fiddling with your stereo,” he replies. I pick up the loaded tray and I take it to the dining room placing it on the table with the candles. He’s distracted so I can grab a quick shower … a girl’s gotta ‘look’ prepared even if she wasn’t.

Thank goodness it’s Friday … that means that I can wet my hair. I’ve gone from freezing to burning up. Take it easy before you short circuit. The water feels like heaven … not too hot, not too cold. I close my eyes and stand under the spray and feel the tension melting away from my body. My hand reaches up to the caddy for my body wash and I feel his arm brush the side of my breast. He’s in the shower with me and reaching for my body wash. I gasp as his arm grazes my flesh. There’s goose flesh all over my body. He leans into my back and kisses my neck. I can feel his manhood on my backside. My body shivers.

“I’m here baby,” he whispers into my ear, “Lemme do this.”

I didn’t plan to follow her into the shower … I was just looking for her. I followed the sound of the running water and ended up in her bedroom, standing there and taking my shirt off, and then everything else when I realized that she was in the shower. She’s so lost in her enjoyment of the water that she doesn’t hear me enter the stall. I watch as she soaks her hair and hold my breath as it looks like she’s about to turn, but she doesn’t. Instead she reaches her right arm up to grab her wash. I can’t take it anymore. I’m appreciating the shape and size of her ass but I want more. I reach with her for the bottle with her, touching her so that she knows I’m here. My arm touches the side of her breast and I’m instantly hard. I can’t help it … I lean into her softness, feeling her body quiver as we touch for the first time. I take the soap from her trembling fingers and pour some into my palm and begin to lather her body.

She feels like warm, wet, silk … I pay extra attention to those wonderfully full breasts of hers, and smile as their tips bead under my hands. My body responds in kind to the movement of her back over my chest. I reach down and rub her stomach, using both hands to lather her hips. The back of my hand slides around and I rub her back, making my way lower to her ass. Not a word has been spoken. There is no need. She turns to face me and I see nothing but raw desire in her eyes. She wraps her arms around me, sliding her body over mine as she covers me with suds. I reach between us and slide my fingers into her soft warmth. She sighs and reaches up to kiss me. Sweet Jesus I am so ready to get out of this shower, but I want this to last for her … for me too, but for her mostly … but those little noises that she’s making will be my undoing.

“Slow down baby … we got all night…”

Dylan is doing things to me that I have only ever dreamt about. He’s working my body like a master craftsman and I’m about ready to explode. His fingers have found my center … his probing and caressing feels so good. I pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him with all that is in me. As I enjoy the feel of his rough yet gentle hands on and in my body, I feel as though I can see into his soul. I can see me there in the various ways that he has pictured me, and I’m beautiful in his eyes. I sigh … he groans. My nipples graze his and he tightens his hold. “Dylan,” I whisper. He understands and leads me out of the shower. He picks up my towel and gently pats my body dry. I take the towel from his fingers and do the same for him. Again he kisses me. He lifts his head, about to say something and I touch his lips with mine

“Shh…” I whisper.

He holds me in his arms and deepens the kiss. My hands travel up his arms, reveling in the feel of his muscles as they flex under my hands. We move to my bed. He lays me gently down and walks to my windows, closing the shades on the dusk’s rosy hues. I’m suddenly shy again, looking at him in all of his masculine glory. I note the network of scars behind his left knee, and remember the dirt biking accident that he had spoken of. He turns to face me … his eyes raking over my body in a way that makes me ‘feel’ his look. My lips slowly curve into a smile as I take my own long look down his naked body … reveling in the way his thigh muscles ripple as he walks towards me. He lies beside me and just looks at me, branding me yet again with his eyes.

“My Angel,” he whispers to me, claiming my mouth in a soul searing kiss. Our hands reach for each other’s bodies, touching, reverencing, exploring. I run my fingertips down his spinal column to his butt and back up again. I wrap my leg around his torso, pulling him closer to me. The feel of his erection on my stomach is driving me wild … I want him inside of me so badly …

Her mouth is warm and wet, and is an invitation into her true core. She’s responding to my every touch and matching me action for action. With every touch and movement she sighs, letting me know that we’re of the same mind. She’s wrapped her leg around me … I feel her moist mound on my thigh. I reach down and enter her with my fingers again and feel her spasm.

“Dylan,” she whimpers to me, “Dylan … please.”

I shift our positions until she’s on her back and I’m over her. I lower my head to her breasts, sucking them in turn.

“Dylan please what?” I taunt, feeling the power that my body has over hers. She reaches between our bodies and holds on to my dick, moving her hand slowly around me. I look at her and she’s taunting me, running her tongue over her lips.

“You little tease,” I grunt.

“Me? Little? Hmmm…” She lost in her own pleasure as she continues stroking me and I’m going crazy. I remove her hand and lock her fingers into mine as I ease ever so slowly into her. I inch in, stopping every time she lifts her hips toward me.

“Dylan … please … please … please,” I whimper. He’s trying to send me over the edge, teasing me mercilessly.

“Dylan please what?” he asks; only this time he’s not as cocky. I hear the strain in his voice and smile, lifting both legs and wrapping them around him and pulling him into me. My walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Hussy,” he whispers as he kisses me. The rhythm begins … slowly and sweetly as we rock with each other … wet flesh on wet flesh being the only sound. I dig my fingers into his back … it’s like I’m trying to take him into me totally … I can’t get enough of him. I kiss his face … I nibble on his earlobe. His body trembles in a different way when he feels my teeth at his ear.

“Oh yeah,” he groans. His hands find my breasts yet again, holding them as he sucks on them, nipping at my nipples. Dear Lord but this is sweet torture. He slows the pace each time we come to the brink, this time pulling completely out of me.

“What-” I begin but he stops me with a kiss, trailing his way with kisses down my body. He stops at the apex of my thighs and kisses my inner thighs. His very breath makes me writhe under his ministrations. Then he spreads me with his fingers and he enters me with his tongue. I hold on to his hair for dear life … not sure whether I’m removing him or sending him further in.

“D-Dylan,” I stutter, as my body starts to shake.

“Hold on Baby, I’m coming,” he responds as he climbs his way back up my body and re-enters me with one deep thrust, sending us both over the edge of total and complete orgasm. I feel like I’m dying, but it’s the sweetest kind of death. I’m aware of Dylan’s body arched above mine and I open my arms to welcome him to me.

Stillness … that’s all that’s left us. We listen to the beat of our ragged breathing and our rapidly slowing heartbeats.

“You good Baby?” I ask, rubbing my hands down her back.

“Mhmm,” she whispers, cuddling her body tighter to mine. We’re still connected … there’s no rush to separate.

“Angel,” I begin, tilting her head up to mine, “I love you … so much right now…”

“But you’re afraid. Don’t deny it D, I can see it, even if it’s just a little bit.” I reach up and kiss his chin. “I love you too Babe, and I love that you love me too. One day at a time okay? It’s strange to me too.” He holds me like I’m something precious.

“One day at a time,” he agrees. “I just want to stay here inside you and happy,” he whispers as he drifts off to sleep.

“Go right ahead baby,” I tell him, kissing his chest “I’m all yours…”

–-–-–

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